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It Happened in Paris...
Dear Reader
When my editor suggested I write a book set in Paris with a Valentine theme, I loved the idea! After all, what could possibly be more romantic than my hero and heroine meeting in Paris and falling in love (even if they know they shouldn’t)?
I had such fun researching Paris and things to do there—though I admit it was a bit of a challenge that it had to be set in February! No spring trees bursting into bloom, no lazing in sunshiny parks lush with the scent of roses, no warm weather strolls along the Seine…
But I managed to find other things for Jack and Avery to enjoy when they first meet—including succumbing to a brief fling! He’s an interventional cardiologist and she’s a biomedical engineer—you can imagine their shock when they discover they’ll be colleagues on the clinical trial they’re in Paris to conduct. A trial that’s extremely important to both of them.
Jack never mixes business with pleasure. Avery knows they might very possibly end up with different opinions on how the research is going. What will happen if Jack finds out that she holds the entire future of his trial in her hands?
If you enjoy Jack and Avery’s story I’d love to hear from you! Find me on Facebook, Twitter, or my website: www.robingianna.com
Robin xoxo
After completing a degree in journalism, working in the advertising industry, then becoming a stay-at-home mum, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her ‘midlife awakening’. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and embarked on that quest by joining RWA, Central Ohio Fiction Writers, and working hard at learning the craft.
She loves sharing the journey with her characters, helping them through obstacles and problems to find their own happily-ever-afters. When not writing, Robin likes to create in her kitchen, dig in the dirt, and enjoy life with her tolerant husband, three great kids, drooling bulldog and grouchy Siamese cat.
To learn more about her work visit her website: www.robingianna.com
It Happened
in Paris…
Robin Gianna
www.millsandboon.co.uk
For my wonderful children, Arianna, James and George. You three are truly the light of my life.
A big thank you to good friend Steven J. Yakubov, MD, who has been conducting TAVI clinical trials overseas and now in the US for years, and who inspired this story. I so appreciate it, Steve, that you called me to answer all my questions even after you’d had almost no sleep for three nights. Thanks bunches!
Table of Contents
Cover
Dear Reader
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
JACK DUNBAR STUDIED the map in his hand, trying to figure out where the heck he was in this city of two million people. He was determined not to waste his first hours in Paris, and never mind that he’d only had a few hours of sleep while folded into an airplane seat, couldn’t speak French and had no idea how to get around.
But, hey, a little adventure never hurt anyone. Even getting lost would be a welcome distraction from thinking about the presentation he had to give tonight. The presentation that would begin the new phase of his career he’d worked so hard for. The presentation that would launch the newest medical device, hopefully save lives and change forever the way heart-valve replacement surgery was performed.
Before any sightseeing, though, the first thing on his list was coffee and a little breakfast. Jack stepped into the hotel restaurant and saw that a huge buffet was set up just inside the open doors. Silver chafing dishes, mounds of breads and cheeses, fruits and you-name-it covered an L-shaped table, but the thought of sitting there eating a massive breakfast alone wasn’t at all appealing. He approached the maître d’. “Excuse me. Is there just a small breakfast I can grab somewhere?”
“Voilà!” The man smiled and waved his arm at the buffet with a flourish. “Le petit déjeuner!”
Jack nearly laughed. If that was the small breakfast, he’d hate to see a big one. “Thank you, but I want just coffee and something quick. What’s nearby?”
“Everything you could wish for is right here, monsieur.”
“Yes, I see that, but—”
“I know a little place that’s just what you’re looking for,” a feminine voice said from behind him. “When in France, eat like the French do. And that spread in there is most definitely meant for Americans.”
He turned, and a small woman with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen stood there, an amused smile on her pretty face. He smiled back, relieved that someone might actually steer him in the right direction, and that she not only spoke English, but sounded like she was American, too. “That’s exactly what I want. To immerse myself in French culture for a while. And soon, because I need a cup of coffee more than I need oxygen right now.”
Those amazing eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, sparkled as her smile grew wider. “Caffeine is definitely the number one survival requirement. Come on.”
Leaving barely a second for him to thank the unhelpful maître d’, she wrapped her hand around his biceps and tugged him toward the door and out into the chilly January streets of Paris. “Just down the street is the perfect café. We can get coffee and a baguette, then we’ll be good to go.”
We? Jack had to grin at the way she’d taken over. Not that he minded. Being grabbed and herded down the street by a beautiful woman who obviously knew a little about Paris was a pleasure he hadn’t expected, but was more than happy about.
“I’m Avery, by the way.”
“Jack.” He looked at her and realized her unusual name went well with a very unusual woman. A woman who took a perfect stranger down the street to a coffee shop as though she’d known him for days instead of seconds. A red wool hat was pulled onto her head, covering lush dark brown hair that spilled from beneath it. A scarf of orange, red and yellow was wrapped around her neck and tucked inside a short black coat, and tight-fitting black pants hugged her shapely legs. On her feet she wore yellow rain boots with red ducks all over them, and a purple umbrella was tucked under her arm. Dull she most definitely was not.
“Nice to meet you, Jack.” Her smile was downright dazzling. The morning looked a whole lot brighter than it had a few moments ago, despite the sky being as gray as pencil lead. “How do you like your coffee? American style? If you really want to be French, you’ll have to drink espresso. But I won’t judge you either way.”
Her green eyes, filled with a teasing look, were so mesmerizing he nearly stumbled off the curb when they crossed the street. “Somehow I think that’s a lie. And while I can handle being judged, I like espresso.”
“I knew you were a man after my own heart.”
He’d be willing to bet a lot of men were after her heart and a whole lot more.
The little coffee shop smelled great, and he followed Avery to the counter. She ordered in French, and the way the words slipped from her tongue, it sounded to him like she spoke the language nearly like a native.
“You ordered, so I’m paying,” he said.
“That’s what I was hoping for. Why else did you think I brought you along?”
“And here I thought it was my good looks and sophistication.”
“I did find that, combined with your little-boy-lost look, irresistible, I must admit.”
He chuckled. Damned if she wasn’t about the cutest woman he’d been around in a long time. They took their baguettes and tiny cups of espresso to a nearby tall table and stood. Jack nearly downed his cup of hot, strong coffee in one gulp. “This is good. Just what I needed. Except there isn’t nearly enough of it.”
“I know. And I even ordered us double shots. I always have to get used to the tiny amounts of espresso they serve when I’m in Europe. We Americans are used to our bottomless cups of coffee.”
“Are you here as a tourist? With friends?” Jack couldn’t imagine she was traveling alone, but hoped she was. Maybe they could spend some time together, since he’d be in Paris for an entire month. With any luck, she was living here.
“I’m in Paris to work, and I’m alone. How about you?”
“Me, too. Working and alone. But I do have a few hours to kill today. Any chance you’ll show me around a little in exchange for me buying lunch?”
“We’re eating breakfast, and you’re already thinking about lunch?” More of that teasing look, and he found himself leaning closer to her. Drawn to her. “I’ve already proved I plan my friendships around who’ll buy. So the answer is yes.”
He smiled. Maybe this great start to his trip to Paris was a good omen. “Where to first? I know nothing about Paris except the Eiffel Tower, which I know is close because I saw it from the hotel.”
“Paris is a wonderful city for walking. Even though it’s cold today and may well rain. Or even snow. Let’s walk toward the Seine and go from there. If we hit the tower early, we’ll avoid some of the crazy lines.”
“There are lines this time of year? I didn’t think there would be many tourists.”
“There are always tourists. Not as many in January and February as in spring and summer, but still plenty. Lots come to celebrate Valentine’s Day in Paris. Romantic, you know?”
He didn’t, really. Sure, he’d had women in his life, some briefly and some for a little longer. But, like his father in the past and his brother now, his life was about work. Working to help patients. Working to save people like his grandfather, who’d had so much to live for but whose heart had given out on him far too soon.
Avery finished her last bite of bread and gathered up her purse and umbrella, clearly ready to move on.
“I don’t suppose they give little to-go cups of espresso, do they?” he asked.
“You suppose right,” she said with a grin. “The French don’t believe in multitasking to quite the same degree we do. They’d shake their heads at crazy Americans who eat and drink while walking around the city.”
“I’ll have to get a triple shot at lunch, then,” he said as they stood. He resisted the urge to lick the last drop from his cup, figuring Avery wouldn’t be too impressed. Might even come up with an excuse not to take him to the Eiffel Tower, and one drop of coffee wasn’t anywhere near worth that risk.
They strolled down cobbled streets and wide walks toward the tower, Avery’s melodic voice giving him a rundown of various sights as they strolled. Not overly chatty, just the perfect combination of information and quiet enjoyment. Jack’s chest felt light. Spending this time with her had leeched away all the stress he’d been feeling, all the intense focus on getting this study off the ground, to the exclusion of everything. How had he gotten so lucky as to have her step into his first day in France exactly when he’d needed it?
“That’s L’Hôtel des Invalides,” she said, pointing at a golden building not too far away. “Napoleon is buried there. I read that they regilded the dome on the anniversary of the French Revolution with something like twenty pounds of gold. And I have to wonder. Wouldn’t all that gold have been better used to drape women in jewelry?”
“So you like being draped in gold?” He looked at the silver hoops in her ears and silver bangles on her wrist. Sexy, but not gold, and not over the top in any way.
“Not really. Though if a man feels compelled to do that, who am I to argue?” She grinned and grasped his arm again. “Let’s get to the tower before the crowds.”
She picked up the pace as they walked the paths crisscrossing a green expanse in front of the tower. Considering how cold it was, a surprising number of people were there snapping pictures and standing in line as they approached. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“Who, me? I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Everyone’s afraid of something.” Her smiling expression faded briefly into seriousness before lightening again. “Obviously, the Eiffel Tower is super tall, and the elevators can be claustrophobic even while you’re thinking how scary it is to be going so high. I’ll hold your hand, though, if you need me to.”
“You know, I just might be afraid after all.”
She laughed, and her small hand slid into his. Naturally. Just like it belonged there.
“Truth? I get a little weirded out on the elevator,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “So if I squeeze your hand too tight, I’m sorry.”
“I’m tough, don’t worry.”
“I bet you are.” She looked up at him with a grin. “The lines aren’t too bad, but let’s take the stairs anyway.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “The stairs?”
“You look like you’re probably fit enough.” Her green eyes laughed at whatever the heck his expression was. “But we don’t take them all the way to the top. Just to the second level, and we’ll grab the elevator there. Trust me, it’s the best way to see everything, especially on a day like today, when it gets cloudier the higher you go.”
“So long as we don’t have to spend the entire day climbing, I’m trusting you, Ms. Tour Guide. Lead the way.” The stairs were surprisingly wide and the trek up sent his heart beating faster and his breath shorter. Though maybe that was just from being with Avery. For some inexplicable reason, she affected him in a way he couldn’t quite remember feeling when he first met a woman.
They admired the views from both the first and second levels, Avery pointing out various landmarks, before they boarded the glass elevator. People were mashed tightly inside, but Jack didn’t mind being forced to stand so close to Avery. To breathe in her appealing scent that was soft and subtle, a mix of fresh air and light perfume and her.
The ride most definitely would challenge anyone with either of the fears Avery had mentioned, the view through the crisscrossed metal of the tower incredible as they soared above Paris. On the viewing platform at the top, the cold wind whipped their hair and slipped inside Jack’s coat, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to try to keep her warm.
“You want to look through the telescope? Though we won’t be able to see too far with all the clouds,” she said, turning to him. Her cheeks were pink, her beautiful lips pink, too, and, oh, so kissable. Her hair flew across her face, and Jack lifted his fingers to tuck it beneath her hat, because he couldn’t resist feeling the softness of it between his fingers.
“I want to look at you, mostly,” he said, because it was true. “But I may never get up here again, so let’s give it a try.”
Her face turned even more pink at his words before she turned to poke a few coins in the telescope. They took turns peering through it, and her face was so close to his he nearly dipped his head to kiss her. Starting with her cheek, then, if she didn’t object, moving on from there to taste her mouth. Their eyes met in front of the telescope, and her tongue flicked out to dampen her lips, as if she might be thinking of exactly the same thing.
He stared in fascination as her pupils dilated, noting flecks, both gold and dark, within the emerald green of her eyes. He slowly lowered his head, lifted his palm to her face and—
“Excuse me. You done with the telescope?” a man asked, and Avery took a few steps back.
“We’re all done,” she said quickly. The heat he hoped he’d seen in her expression immediately cooled to a friendly smile. “Ready to go, Jack? I think we’ve seen all there is to see from up here today.”
Well, damn. Kissing her in the middle of that crowd wasn’t the best idea anyway, but even the briefest touch of her lips on his would have been pretty sweet, he knew. “I’m ready.”
They crammed themselves onto the elevator once more, though it wasn’t quite as packed as it had been on the way up. He breathed in her scent again as he tucked a few more strands of hair under her hat. “Thanks for bringing me up here. That was amazing.” She was amazing. “So what now, Ms. Tour Guide? Time for lunch?”
“There you go, thinking about food again.” She gave him one of her cute, teasing looks. “But I admit I’m getting a little hungry, too. There’s a great place just a little way along the river I like. There will be a few different courses, but don’t worry—it won’t break your wallet.”
He didn’t care what it cost. Getting to spend a leisurely lunch with Avery was worth a whole lot of money.
They moved slowly down a tree-lined path by the river, and he felt the most absurd urge to hold her hand again. As though they’d known each other a lot longer than an hour or two. Which reminded him he still hardly knew anything about her at all. “Do you live here? You obviously speak French well,” he said.
“My parents both worked in France for a while, and I went to school here in Paris for two years. You tend to learn a language fast that way. I’m just here for a month or so this time.”
“What do you do?”
“I— Oh!” As though they’d stepped out from beneath a shelter, heavy sheets of rain mixed with thick, wet snowflakes suddenly poured on their heads, and Avery fumbled with her umbrella to get it open. It was small, barely covering both their heads. Jack had to hunch over since she was so much shorter than him as, laughing, they pressed against one another to try to stay dry.
He maneuvered the two of them under a canopy of trees lining the river and had to grin. The Fates were handing him everything today, including a storm that brought him into very close contact with Avery. Exactly where he wanted to be.
He lifted his finger to slip a melting snowflake from her long lashes. “And here I’d pictured Paris as sunny, with beautiful flowers everywhere. I didn’t even know it snowed here.”
“You can’t have done your homework.” Her voice was breathy, her mouth so close to his he got a little breathless, too. “It rains and snows here a lot. Parisians despise winter with a very French passion.”
He didn’t know about French passion. But hadn’t Avery said when in France, do as the French do? He more than liked the idea of sharing some passion with Avery. “I’m not a big fan of winter, either, when snow and ice make it harder getting to and from work.”
“Ah, that sounds like you must be a workaholic.” She smiled, her words vying for attention with the pounding rain on the nylon above them.
“That accusation would probably be accurate. I spend pretty much all my time at work.”
“I must have caught you at a good moment, then, since you’re sightseeing right now. Or, at least, we were sightseeing before we got stuck in this.”
“You did catch me at a good moment.” Maybe the romantic reputation of Paris was doing something to him, because he lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. Let his fingers slip into her hair that cascaded from beneath her hat. After all, what better place to kiss a beautiful woman than under an umbrella by the Seine in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower? “I’m enjoying this very good moment.”
Her eyes locked with his. He watched her lips part, took that as the invitation he was looking for and lowered his mouth to hers.
The kiss was everything he’d known it would be. Her sexy lips had tormented him the entire time they’d been together in that elevator and standing close to one another on the observation deck. Hell, they’d tormented him just minutes after they’d met as he’d watched her nibble her baguette and sip her espresso. He could still faintly taste the coffee on her lips and an incredible sweetness that was her alone.
He pulled back an inch, to see how she was feeling about their kiss. If she thought it was as amazing as he did. If she’d be all right with another, longer exploration. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks a deep pink as she stared at him, but thankfully she didn’t pull away and he went back for more.
He’d intended to keep it sweet, gentle, but the little gasp that left her mouth and swirled into his own had him delving deeper, all sense of anything around them gone except for the unexpected intimacy of this kiss they were sharing. Her slim hand came up to cradle his neck. It was cold, and soft, and added another layer of delicious sensation to the moment, and he had to taste more of her rain-moistened skin. Wondered if she’d possibly let him taste more than her face and throat. If she’d let him explore every inch of what he knew would be one beautiful body on one very special, beautiful afternoon.
Lost in sensory overload, Avery’s eyelids flickered, then drifted shut again as Jack’s hot mouth moved from her lips to slide across her chilled cheek. Touched the hollow of her throat, her jaw, the tender spot beneath her ear. She’d never kissed a man she’d just met before, but if it was always this good, she planned to keep doing it. And doing it. And doing it.
His hands cupping her cheeks were warm, and his breath that mingled with her own was warm, too, as he brought his mouth back to hers. Her heart pounded in her ears nearly as hard as the rain on the umbrella. She curled one hand behind his neck, hanging on tight before her wobbly knees completely gave way and she sank to the ground to join the water pooling around their feet.
The sensation of cold rain and snow splattering over her face had her opening her eyes and pulling her mouth from his. Dazed, she realized she’d loosened her grip on the umbrella, letting it sway sideways, no longer protecting them. Jack grasped the handle to right it, holding it above their heads again, his dark brown eyes gleaming. His black hair, now a shiny, wet ebony, clung to his forehead. Water droplets slid down his temple.
“Umbrellas don’t work too well hanging upside down. Unless your goal is to collect water instead of repel it,” he said, a slow smile curving the sexy lips that had made her lose track of exactly where they were. Lips that had traveled deliciously across several inches of her skin until she nearly forgot her own name.
“I know. Sorry.” She cleared her throat, trying to gather her wits. “Except you didn’t bring an umbrella at all, so you would have gotten wet anyway.”
“True. Not that I mind. I like watching the raindrops track down your cute nose and onto your pretty lips.” His finger reached out to trace the parts he’d just mentioned, lingering at her mouth, and she nearly licked the raindrops from his finger until she remembered a few very important things.
Things like the fact that she barely knew him. Like the fact that they were standing in a public place. Like the fact that she wasn’t looking for a new relationship to replace the not-good one she’d only recently left.
She stared at the silkiness of his dark brows and the thickness of his black lashes, all damp and spiky from the rain. At the water dripping from his hair, over a prominent cheekbone, down the hollow of his cheek and across his stubborn-looking jaw. The thought crossed her mind that she’d never, ever spent time with a man so crazily good-looking. Even more good-looking than her ex-boyfriend, Kent, and she’d thought at the time he was a god in the flesh. At least for a while, until she’d figured out the kind of overly confident and egotistical guy he really was. Until she’d found out he was actually the one convinced he was godlike.